


for dawning light (haha get it, they're called DAWNClan)

by fvartoxin



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Breaking news: Not at all respected leader literally dies on screen, Character Death, I hope I'm not forgetting to tag something, Implied past child abuse mentioned, Lionclaw needs a hug, Other, Rockstar is a weird guy, Slightly unfortunate implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvartoxin/pseuds/fvartoxin
Summary: More of my older work, from years past. Rockstar fucked up; although at this point in the equation he's just trying to minimize the damage that he's caused. Not in this, though! Not in this.Yikes.
Relationships: Rockstar & Lionclaw
Kudos: 1





	for dawning light (haha get it, they're called DAWNClan)

He was dying, succumbing to an infection caused by weeks-old gashes in his pelt. Blood poisoning, Nightmask had told him grudgingly. This wasn't surprising, nor was it anything new to him. He'd already lost two lives. And he was lucky, compared to some. Quite honestly, Rockstar had expected to have lost more by now. He was old, far older than the rest of his warrior Clanmates (though, some of them were getting up there in age). Compared to them, he had weathered countless eons, and had sat back and watched as entire generations went by. Only the elders had seen as much as he had, time-wise.

Not that there had ever been much in the way of new generations since the plague. The ghost tabby's lip curled. How unfortunate, that the curse of sterility seemed to have latched onto every cat's blood. Yes, it skipped individuals here and there, but a low birth rate was never a good thing for any Clan. Very few of DawnClan's current members were able to have kittens. Rockstar was far too prideful to admit to a crowd that DawnClan needed help, that it would more than likely have to rely on outsiders for fresh blood again. The idea of a kitten donation was utterly ridiculous; what normal nursing cat would willingly hand over their entire litter to another Clan? But, at the same time, he didn't want to have to keep inviting unfamiliar cats into the camp just in case litters didn't take on the first try. Either it was that his entire Clan suffer and die because of his own sense of pride, or he make a shattering announcement at the next Gathering.

Funny, how he was worrying about this now of all times. There was a slow rattle in his breath, and he instinctively knew that his grip on the mortal world was once again fading. He hadn't lost a life in quite a while, and he was somewhat amazed that he could remember the feeling so clearly. He'd refused any sort of medical help once the initial infection had set in; no use wasting precious herbal remedies on a cat who both had multiple lives and who could stand to lose a few. Yes indeed, Rockstar had been lucky in some aspects.

But he had paid a price for this elongated lifespan, as well. His mate, his dear Shortwhisker; by now his memory of her was faded, and the exact circumstances of her death were blurry. Regardless, she was long gone, her physical form nothing now except a decaying corpse buried back in the canyon that had been DawnClan's original home. And he loved her, there was no past tense about it. Even if the last time they had met, they couldn't even look each other in the eyes. She hadn't appeared to him for years now, and he wasn't blind to the reason why. Rockstar knew full well that Shortwhisker was disappointed in him for the way he was interacting with her kittens. But, she needed to understand. Just because Cherryleap and Almondwhisker were her children, that did not mean that they were Rockstar's, and so he was not obligated to treat them as family. It pained him to look at Cherryleap, anyways. She reminded him so much of Shortwhisker, and he couldn't bear reliving the few happy memories he had left of her.

With his entire being, he was devoted to her. He hadn't taken another mate after her death, hadn't even considered the possibility of finding love again. She had been the sun to his moon. He laid his head on his paws, and wondered whether or not she would come to see him this time. The odds were unlikely, but perhaps things could go his way.

From the corner of his eye, he glanced back at his scarred shoulder. Reddish-pink skin, tight with inflammation and oozing thick fluid, cut a stark contrast to the short patches of black fur. He marveled at the color for a while, his thoughts growing fuzzy; strange, how such vibrancy could be found in nature. He didn't have the energy to growl, nor to curse the perpetrator. Duncan had made quick work of him, despite being in far worse shape. Then again, size gave the tortoiseshell the advantage. Rockstar had never been a small tomcat by any means, but he wasn't exactly a hulking beast either. The fights provided him with a nice opportunity to keep his claws sharp, anyway. There hadn't been any major scuffles between Clans in a while. And, though Rockstar would freely admit that he had no interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with another male, the sexual aspect of his semi-frequent encounters with the former rogue were of some benefit. The ghost tabby had been pent up for a long time, condemning himself over perceived faults. Duncan's own sexual issues only fueled the violence. It was an interesting time for both parties, at the least. It was something different than the norm, too.

Rockstar sighed, and stopped fighting, letting his thoughts quiet as the beating of his heart slowly ground down to a halt. He could ponder more later; may as well relax and let his body heal now. Though he wasn't sure if he was willing to retire just yet (he knew that Lionclaw would be a good leader, even if she could be childish and often was more than a little lenient), he would allow himself to rest just this once. However briefly that 'once' may have been. And so, he died, with little fanfare. He wasn't aware that his deputy had quietly slipped into his den to sit and wait.

When he next gained feeling in his limbs, he was in StarClan, standing tall and gazing out over the rock face of his former home. It was just as he remembered it; no doubt, the canyon had been worn away by weather in reality, at least a little bit. He half expected to see his Clanmates poking their heads from the old dens, calling out to each other. Not just the cats who were currently living, either. He turned his head at the sound of footsteps behind him.

The blue-tinged black form of Dawnstar stepped lightly, striding with purpose towards her successor. There was a look of disapproval about her, and her tail lashed once before falling still. "Sit," she commanded as she reached the point where Rockstar stood. "I believe we need to talk."

Obediently, he sat down. "...Where is Shortwhisker?" Rockstar asked feebly, knowing that his former mate would only appear to him if she wanted to, but refusing to fully accept it as fact. "I wanted to see her before I was sent back." The old tom flinched instinctively under Dawnstar's stern gaze. Even though she had been dead for years, her presence was still formidable when she was angered.

"You know where she is, Rockstar." Dawnstar responded curtly, annoyance sparking in her narrowed amber eyes. She sat down as well, only inches away from her former deputy. "She's disappointed in you, and frankly, I feel the exact same way. It is true that you have held this Clan together after my passing, but I can't say that I approve of any recent actions of yours. Or, even your less recent actions. You claimed to love Shortwhisker unconditionally when you proposed mateship to each other, yet when she sought surrogacy, you shunned her and your newborn children. She intended you to love those kittens, to view them as though you had sired them yourself. I may have been old at the time of my final death, but I was not senile by any means. I saw how you treated those kits, and I still see how you're treating them." The queen's hackles rose. "On another, semi-related note, it's pathetic how you're so focused on revenge against your supposed oppressor. I can't say I know much about him personally, but Duncan is not the cat who made you sterile. It wasn't even a cat at all that caused that! And, it takes more than one person to conceive a child. Shortwhisker was the one who had the idea in the first place. You're being completely ridiculous, and it's getting harder and harder to see why I chose someone such as yourself for my deputy. Your narrow sight and bloodthirst will surely strip away the remainder of your nine lives, and I won't be surprised when you show up in StarClan for good. Though I wonder who will succeed you. Lionclaw is getting older, Rockstar. Haven't you noticed the silver hairs speckling her muzzle? She can't keep this up forever." Dawnstar's voice was considerably softer now. "You may have to choose a new deputy sooner than you think. I suggest you be wise about it. Think long and hard about who is fit to lead, because often answers come in a place where you do not wish to look."

Rockstar snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "Dawnstar, if you're suggesting that I make one of **them** my next deputy, I can assure you that I will not. I'd be showing them favoritism then, and neither Almondwhisker nor Cherryleap deserve to be favored by me. They are not special; they are not my family. Besides, our other Clanmates aren't in their prime any longer, either. Who's to say that all of them won't die to the next wave of disease? Unless you're suggesting that I convert some random house pet into a Clan cat."

Wisely, she chose to ignore him. "Even Nightmask doesn't have an apprentice. Medicine cats are not like warriors, the knowledge they acquire is not something that the majority are willing to devote their lives to. If one of you falls, the rest of the Clan is sure to follow." Dawnstar paused in her speech to glare at him once again. "Keep your eyes open, and tread carefully."

"Answer my question," he hissed, ears flattening against his head as he instinctively dropped into a crouch.

But she shook her head, and began to fade. "Remember this."

He awoke in his den, wounds healed and covered over with glossy black fur. Lifting his head and looking around, he spotted the ticked tabby form of Lionclaw hidden in the shadows. "How long have you been waiting?" Rockstar swallowed thickly, his dry throat making it hard to get the words out.

Lionclaw flicked her tail dismissively. "A few hours now, if I'm giving a rough estimate. I was wondering whether you would wake up, to be perfectly honest." The queen lifted a forepaw and rasped her tongue over it as she spoke. "I, err, have a confession to make. If it's not too presumptuous...or in poor taste," she said, ears turning back as she spoke. "In advance, Rockstar, I am sorry."

"I still have lives, and you shouldn't worry about me. I'm planning on heading this Clan for a considerable while longer." Rockstar blinked slowly, inclining his head. "And I always have the time to hear out my deputy." He began to groom his chest.

"Well." Lionclaw began hesitantly. "I'm aware we share a bond closer than most; that's generally how leaders and deputies work from what I've seen and been told, but. I've been thinking about this a lot recently. Perhaps they aren't the greatest example in the world, but I have been watching Featherstar and her deputy at Gatherings, in my off moments. And I know that they're mates, even though they don't act like it. Maybe it's one of those 'we have to be professional in public' acts, but." Lionclaw took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and stop her words from tumbling out too fast. "The point is, Rockstar. I recently came to terms with and accepted the fact that my feelings for you are more than platonic. So, if it is appropriate, and if StarClan approves...I would like to be more than friends."

For once in his life, he was genuinely surprised. Of course, Rockstar had always been somewhat oblivious to the romantic feelings of others in the first place. "You are several years younger than me," he stated softly, a condescending note slipping into his tone. "Would you, in the unlikely chance that if you outlived me, forget me and take another mate? Would that happen so easily?"

"Don't patronize me, Rockstar. I know full well what I'm doing and saying right now. I am not a child, I am a grown woman and I have been for quite some time now." Lionclaw growled. "I have desires. I'm sure you have desires. You've been grieving for your previous mate for literally the majority of your life, and from what I've been told in the odd message or two from StarClan, she no longer wants anything to do with your name. She has moved on, and you are as good as dead to her. Don't you think it's time that you moved on, too? Neither of us are getting any younger here, and I am willing to give you a chance. I'm not demanding that you have to take my offer, but I'm saying that maybe you should consider opening yourself up more. I can't imagine how someone could stand being so lonely all the time."

Rockstar considered her words for a few seconds, then sighed. "Come here," he beckoned. "You know me far too well, Lionclaw. You are certainly a worthy successor, and on another note, I am surprised that no cat has wanted to bear your kittens yet. You are of sound mind." The tom paused, studying the way that the light fell across the other tabby's shoulders, accentuating their harsh slope. Was this a bad decision? No doubt. He'd just be leading her along if he chose to do this. Of course, he'd have to come clean eventually, but the one time would hurt...It wouldn't hurt himself, at least. Either way, he didn't like to admit he still felt such carnal desires after Shortwhisker's death. "I can't promise that I will ever love you as more than a second in command. But, if you wish, I am here for these few hours, at least." Rockstar most certainly was not known for his ability to make good decisions when emotional. "Do with me what you will, for today. Then, we'll see."

Lionclaw hesitated, weighing her options. There was something about the tone of his voice that made her skin crawl. "No," she said finally. "I'm aware I instigated this, and, logically, I should be jumping for joy right now, but your thoughts are obviously clouded, Rockstar. It would be unfair for me to take advantage of you at this time. I do love you, but I'll do this; **we'll** do this later. We'll do this later." And with that, she was gone, stamping off in a flustered flurry.

Rockstar sighed, and watched her go without another word. He yawned and soon settled in for a nap, tucking his tail over his nose.


End file.
